My wife sensibly came home after mid-evening yesterday following her long full day working at the Thai restaurant where she is employed part-time. At that juncture, my brother and I were watching an episode of Inspector Morse ─ episode three ("Death Is Now My Neighbour") of season or series eight.
I was tickled to recognize one of the supporting actors as being a mainstay 15 to 25 years later in the role of young Endeavour Morse's immediate superior, DI (Detective Inspector) Fred Thursday. The actor was, of course, Roger Allam.
A fairly extensive description of the episode can be found at InspectorMorse.Fandom.com. It was a good one, as is generally the case. And for once, I mostly understood the outcome. (Too often, the denouement as explained in the episode wrap-up is just too complex for me, for I rarely retain any memory of the various characters' names.)
I am not going to itemize everything I watched last evening ─ who ever cares?
Anyway, at night's end when my brother and I were both retiring for the night, my wife had already done so. And since she and I have separate bedrooms (for just over a year now), we never had any sort of discussion.
She had to work the latter half of today (from 4 or 4:30 p.m.), so she did not need to rise until midday ─ actually, I believe it was more like 1 p.m. or a little later. By then, I was already in bed seeking my early afternoon nap.
I have not yet delivered my ultimatum to her concerning my intentions if she ever again makes major late night withdrawals from my chequing account to party and gamble. I am going to save that conversation towards the next arrival of my monthly pension, which is direct-deposited into my account near the end of each month.
This morning I had an extremely unpleasant go of it with my brother when we were watching videos together that I was summoning up via our Android TV Box. He bitched about Christian sermonizing when I tuned in Pastor Michael Thiessen's October 8 upload to Rumble that was over an hour in duration (1:12:35): LCC IS DEFENDING WESTERN STUDENTS: A SPECIAL LEGAL UPDATE w/James Kitchen.
#ENOUGHISENOUGH! Western students said it...and we agree. It's time to end COVID tyranny and take back our rights as Canadian citizens. Tune in to hear how LCC is confronting corruption in the courts and defending the rights of ordinary Canadian citizens. You're not going to want to miss this one!
Episode Resource: Liberty Defence Fund: https://libertycoalitioncanada.com/our-legal-strategy/; Donate today!: https://libertycoalitioncanada.com/donate/.
He also bitched about the closing minutes of the video that involved a fund raising spiel, so I quietly closed out of the video.
When I played a special one nearly two hours long (1:56:13) that was a commemoration in recognition of their 40 years of existence and which was uploaded two days ago to Rumble by Vaccine Choice Canada (40th Celebration of Vaccine Choice Canada - So Many Heartfelt Moments), I had to close that one down after 30 - 40 minutes because he first bitched that it was probably another fund-raising commercial, and then declared that it was boring.
I could not help but comment that it probably was boring when compared to his embrace of drunkenness every single day with his wide social circle of pub-haunting other drinkers.
The shallow prick wants to enjoy the fruits ─ the interesting and informative videos ─ of the hard work undertaken by these various people and groups, but he resents that they seek funding to keep their work alive? Or that they lay claim to being Christian too openly for his liking?
I was feeling fury building within me. When I tuned in something else that he clearly did not like, he got up and sat silently in petulance at the dining table flipping pages of some publication, and then wordlessly vacated the downstairs and went up to his bedroom to rest up before leaving for the day to get drunk once again, as he does every single day of the week.
This is my life. A part-time wife who gambles away my pension every month, and spends most of her free time somewhere else ─ she virtually only comes home to sleep a few nights a week because we live far closer to her place of part-time employment than wherever it is that she hangs out in Vancouver.
And a surly younger brother 2¾ years younger than I am whom I only see sober for maybe four hours a day before he takes off to hang out and get drunk with other drinkers, not to return home until ─ usually ─ somewhere between 9 and 10 p.m.
This is all I am to have?
I have allowed my wife to bury me in debt ─ I cannot leave to go anywhere else. I have no savings or nest egg ─ only debt. And my only income is pension-related.
I do not drive. I have no close friends ─ and absolutely no friends of any degree whom I can visit or have visit me. This household is my social world, basically. I usually only leave it three days a week; and two of those are in the very weest a.m. hours of the night.
I am somewhere between being house-bound and in a state of house arrest.
My two adult stepsons are good lads, but we do not associate. There is absolutely nothing in common between us. They live in their den area downstairs; and I spend most of my time here at my computer in my upstairs bedroom when I am not downstairs watching some T.V. in the living room. Sometimes three days can pass without me exchanging a word with either lad.
So here I live, a 73-year-old who is practically alone and wholly helpless to do anything about it. I can barely afford to keep myself stocked with enough beer to have two or three cans an evening. If I spent even one day a month haunting some pub, I would have no money to spend for anything else.
Hell, I barely have the money now to spend on anything ─ my wife gets to it as soon as it gets deposited late each month.
That must stop ─ and thus the ultimatum I will be laying forth to her just ahead of my next deposit. If she helps herself ─ if I see hundreds being withdrawn late one night ─ then she is not to come home thereafter.
Ever. This will no longer be her home.
Further, I will deliberate with my brother about selling the house ─ my share will erase all of the debt that I have allowed my wife to bury me under. But it will require her two sons to find somewhere else to live, and this has been their only home since coming to Canada from Thailand in September 2008.
My plan upon eradicating my debt following the sale of my home now for something over 20 years will be to leave these parts after closing out my bank accounts. I have three separate institutions where I have joint accounts with my wife. If I cannot close them due to them being joint accounts, then I will demand that my name be detached from them and she can have them under her name alone.
I have no intention of spending my remaining time with my drunken brother. I have had my fill of his drunkenness to last me for however much longer I may live.
I will have to abandon most of my belongings, for I have no means of taking them with me. But it will matter little ─ I doubt that I will live for too much longer once I have separated myself from my household ... my family.
I will then be truly alone.
And when I die, it is my prayer ─ my demand ─ of God to destroy my essence. There is no need to resurrect me to a Judgment. I already accept responsibility for all of my failings, and I have no desire to ever taste life again. Simply destroy me while I am asleep in my death.
All God has done for me has been to watch while I have come to this state ─ an ageing, sorry man who has grown utterly sick of existing. If I am to die, then please keep me dead ─ destroy whatever there is of me that is not physical. I want to know nothing more ─ ever. I am too heartsick.
I wish to watch a Christmas movie now, and break down emotionally while drinking some rum, lamenting over a life that can never be mine.
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